


The Divinity of Frog

by Silex



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Frogs, Gen, Original Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 04:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15526212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: Curious by nature, Dasia built a small shrine in her garden to see who or what would take up residence.





	The Divinity of Frog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roguefaerie (samidha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/gifts).



Dasia had put the small shrine in the corner of her garden to see what would move in. Gods and spirits were everywhere in the world around her and she was curious by nature so she carefully built it from small branches and twigs, trying to replicate the appearance of the great temples she’d heard stories about, but never had the chance to see in the small village she’d lived in. Her village had a shrine, a simple building in the center of town where offerings could be left to the Goddess of the Valley. The Goddess was kind, though careless, every year neglecting her duties and allowing the river to flood. Of course the flood brought with it good soil for the farmers’ fields so her negligence with the river was forgivable, if not expected.

Uncertain of what the God or Goddess that would come to her temple would like, she left an assortment of offerings, a coin polished until it shone, a small bowl of porridge, another small bowl of beer, and a scraps of cloth with words of praise written on them.

When she finished placing the offerings she sang and danced in celebration and waited.

Birds found the porridge and carried away the scraps of cloth and by the time she went to bed that night the shrine was still empty.

The next morning it wasn’t.

The coin was missing, the bowl of beer had been overturned and a large and bumpy frog, roughly the size of her hand was sitting in the shrine.

It watched her with bright black and gold eyes, throat inflating slightly as she removed the empty bowl. The little crown on its head, made of twisted grass and adorned with small pebbles and polished seeds proved that it was no ordinary frog.

The God of Frogs had found her shrine.

“Greetings great one,” she bowed to it, feeling slightly silly to be calling something so small ‘great’, but it was the proper way to address a God or Goddess at their shrine. Besides, the God of Frogs was the first God she’d ever met in person. When she visited the Goddess’ shrine the Goddess was only there in effigy.

The God of Frogs blinked up at her, saying nothing in response.

Unsure of what to do she bowed once more and left the God of Frogs to its own devices as she went about her routine of weeding the garden and seeing how the vegetables were doing.

When she finished the God of Frogs had left the shrine to tend to whatever matters concerned such a being.

Uncertain which, if any of the offerings it had found pleasing she settled for tidying up the area around the shrine and placing a flat, smooth rock inside. Dasia figured that it would serve as a throne for the God of Frogs, just like the effigies in the temples and shrines had thrones to sit on.

When she was done the God of Frogs hopped out from under a leaf and into the shrine. It sat on the rock. Looking up at her it croaked, quite loudly for such a small thing.

She took the response to mean that what she’d done was pleasing to it.

The God of Frogs was not a demanding God, content with its shrine and the occasional offering of a bowl of water to soak in when the weather grew particularly hot or dry. In the early evening and after it rained the God of Frogs would hop around the garden, surveying its domain and stopping occasionally to eat a bug it found crawling on the plants.

Dasia’s garden grew well that year, though that may or may not have had anything to do with the God of Frogs having taken up residence there. The only differences that could be directly attributed to the God of Frogs were the scarcity of bugs eating her plants and the unusually large number of frogs that came to the garden. After it rained it seemed that every puddle held one, they hopped out of her way as she picked vegetables and chirped and croaked at her from the shade of the flowers.

By the fall the shrine and its God were simply another part of the garden, slightly more fascinating than the flowers that grew around it, but nothing to give too much thought to.

Fall came and the frogs retreated underground in preparation for the cold weather. Even the God of Frogs burrowed under the stone in the center of its shrine to wait for warm weather to return.

Snow fell and covered the shrine and Dasia thought little of it until the spring came.

As the snow melted away she discovered that the roof had been damaged so she collected twigs to repair it because, as its sole attendant, she felt an obligation to keep it in good repair. She had built a home for the God of Frogs and invited it to her garden so it would be rude to neglect its shrine.

The thaw continued, as always, and the Goddess of the Valley grew so distracted with waking the plants and animals that the river overflowed its banks and flooded the surrounding lands.

As occasionally happened, the flood waters were slow to sink back into the earth, drawing up all manner of biting bugs and crawling vermin. Enticed by the warming weather and still air spirits of disease arrived, causing a great number of people to fall ill.

Bells were rung at the temples and shrines in an attempt to disturb the air and drive away the spirits. Many people, Dasia included, hung chimes by their doors and windows to try and call the fickle God of the Spring Wind to blow the illness away as rumors spread that the Smiling Lady, a plague Goddess, was walking the lands.

Dasia wasn’t sure if she believed the stories, spirits and perhaps the hungry God of Crawling Things might come to the valley, but a Goddess as powerful as the Smiling Lady rarely took an interest in mortals.

Still, she was careful to hang out chimes with words of blessing written on them and, if the wind didn’t blow, shake them every time she went in or out of her house to prevent any bad spirits from slipping inside with her.

One morning as she was leaving the house she heard a loud croak and looked down.

The God of Frogs had returned and was announcing itself. She bowed to it and it blinked up at her before it went on its patrol of her garden. As it hopped along frogs came out of hiding and joined it, searching for bugs to eat. Several even followed her into the house when she went inside, watching the bugs that had gotten inside and waiting for them to land until not a single one remained.

As the sun set, the frogs gathered outside of her door and beneath the windows and began to trill, the sound as loud as any temple bells, breaking the still air. She swore that it echoed across the whole valley, filling it with a strange music.

The next morning, when Dasia traveled to town, she would learn that the previous evening every frog in the valley had begun to sing, the sound shattering the still air, calling in the wind and driving the disease spirits away.

Sure enough those that were ill grew well and no further victims were claimed. Rumors of the Smiling Lady ceased and the last of the floodwaters dried up. People rejoiced and Dasia bought several sticks of incense to celebrate, putting one aside and lighting the rest at the shrine to the Goddess of the Valley.

The last she brought home and placed outside the shrine of the God of Frogs. The God hopped out to sit in the smoke while she thanked it for what it had done.

As always it was silent and still as any ordinary frog.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this wonderful prompt.


End file.
